Harry and the slightly off Azkaban parody
by Arkarian23
Summary: Harry is sent to Azkaban, framed and only Voldemort believes him. though the Potter magic is growing within him and teaches him much. Escape? highly likely. Not like any other Azkaban parody.Probably. I think. Well, maybe... Rated for rude words.


**I thought of this story randomly while stressing that I couldn't write the next chapters to my other stories. Anyway, this came to me thinking of the stories where Harry escapes from Azkaban and then proceeds to kill Voldemort in a blazing ball of fire with previously undiscovered and/or forgotten magic and then disappears to deal with his grief or to plan pranks against his former friends. Well what if it didn't turn out quite like that?**

**Props to the people who can spot the references in this story. Two should be obvious but one less so. I doubt many people will spot it who are younger than myself. **

The dark pit that was Azkaban surrounded Harry Potter. The wails of despair and pain flowed freely through the halls, encouraged by it's wardens, both natural and supernatural. Of course at one of the lowest levels very few humans ever went near the Boy Who Lived, and if then only to gloat over his imprisonment. When they themselves felt their own despair and wanted to vent steam at what they felt was an injustice upon them. An injustice that could not stand against what Harry Potter had been exposed to.

A few thousand miles away, a madman was probably still gloating over the irony of his nemesis' defeat. Harry knew Voldemort had not been behind the attack. Voldemort had revealed this ironic truth to Harry himself through the mind link they once shared. No, it appeared for all the logical to see that the instigator of Harry's removal from society was caused by the truly unpleasant visage of Dolores Umbridge.

A truly deranged sycophant and one of the many in the Wizarding world who would one day be killed violently and hopefully slowly when she tried to fuck with the wrong person. Of course, this potential end for the now former professor was all in theory. This was assuming Harry didn't decide he wanted to get his hands on her himself, though the two potential ends for the disgusting woman were not mutually exclusive. Harry had more imagination than most and intended to put it to full use.

It was coming up to Harry Potter's second full year in prison. June the first, being the day he had entered the hellhole that was Azkaban. Forced to relive the events that had led up to his incarceration. Harry remembered the events that lead up to his incarceration clearly.

Harry walked down the fairly well beaten path to Hagrid's hut, followed by many lonely or bored students in the fifty odd years the half giant had been allowed to keep Hogwarts as his home.

Harry was on his own this evening, Ron and Hermione were sorting something out In the DA and he had eventually tired of their bickering. It was always calming to visit the big friendly half-giant and help himself to as much tea as could be drank while allowing the now fairly old man to describe Harry's parents and any other happy memories the man could recall.

It was just after he left the hut, shortly after curfew that Harry had found himself stunned.

Waking up in a ministry holding cell was a fairly unique experience. Harry eventually gathered his bearings and shouted for a guard that did not come. Food appeared magically, or perhaps it was brought by fast acting elves, twice or perhaps three times a day, there was no other way for Harry to tell the passage of time.

The trial was fairly brief, the grinning visage of Cornelius fudge, looking for all the world like he had just swallowed a particularly delicious fly, as he manipulated the use of the vertiserum, only used this time at Dumbledore's request. Clearly he had planned ahead incase of this eventuality.

Questions such as, "you planned to go alone?" and, "did you know you were out past the curfew?" were used intensively and quickly garnered the image of a premeditated murder to the delight of the currently sitting Minister and Harry was quickly convicted of the crime of "killing the half human, known by many as Hagrid." A conviction followed shortly after questioning.

Despite his conviction the pain Harry had felt at this injustice was only minor and he had somewhat expected that something like this might happen following his trial the previous year. What hurt the most was the reaction of his once close friends, and many others he had become acquainted with over the last five years.

They asked him questions as he was taken away, and expressed their shame at ever relating to him. Dumbledore's, "I'm very disappointed with you Harry, I am deeply sorry I could not help you turn from the dark," shocked him deeply. After all, Dumbledore was infallible. He stood for truth and justice, surely he knew Harry was innocent, knew of the fairly distant friendship between Harry and Hagrid, knew that Harry would never, ever be capable of murder.

Apparently Harry had made a mistake in that regard, Dumbledore was certainly not infallible. It surprised him now to think of how he had ever managed to make such a bone headed judgement, looking to the old man for comfort in the face of adversity following his arrival at Hogwarts. Though then again, Dumbledore was the first authority figure that didn't insult him and actually treated him kindly, short of the distant relationship he had kept with his teachers he was the first positive adult influence on Harry. It was easy to see how a young child like him had made the mistake of trusting someone and allowed that trust to remain as he grew older.

The responses of the others were varied, but all followed the same mantra.

"Harry how could you?"

"Mate, what the bloody hell?"

"What would your parents say? I'm sorry I ever brought you into my house."

"I agree, your parents would be ashamed to think their son is even capable of this, this is the first time that I hope they are not watching over you."

Of course Sirius was still trapped in Grimmauld place, though he had been able to demonstrate his disappointment through Remus. It was a lonely Harry Potter that found himself on a boat heading over to cher Azkaban the next day. Quickly processed and deposited in a holding cell, Harry had quickly succumbed to the effects of the Dementors.

The first year was hell, while he was at a lower level than most prisoners, and far more susceptible to the Dementor's effects, Harry eventually managed to maintain his consciousness and regain a normal sleeping pattern, no longer passing out whenever a cluster of the wraiths got too close. Admittedly it also didn't help the nightmares.

It was July the thirty first. The birthday of the Boy who lived, his seventeenth when it happened. Innocent of the crimes he had committed the ancient power of his family, now all dead except for the one lone survivor flooded into his being. The ring of the Potter family appeared on his left middle finger glowing and bringing him out from his slumber as all the ancestral power of the Potter clan coalesced into one boy, who had just become a man.

With the ring came knowledge like which the previous heads of Potter had not experienced. Clearly the magic of his family did not want to die out. It was with relative glee that the new leader of clan Potter absorbed the knowledge of his forebears. First came the magic of his earliest magical ancestor. The muggleborn who had began his line. The basic firecrafting was fascinating. Lost to most, if not all in the advent of the easier to control fire magics, Harry enjoyed the warmth a snap of his fingers could produce.

Next came the use of plants and herbs, used to divine the presence of game and the berries or fruit that they ate, though Harry had little respect for divination, this magic was actually useful. The ancient magic users in their hunter gatherer communities found their shaman's abilities to divine the presence of game and food invaluable, not to mention their ability to predict the weather and natural disasters saving many lives which would quickly become indebted to their magic users. It was this magic which brought the awe and worship the magicals would earn in the following millennia.

After the use of nature magics came rituals and symbology, following the advent of the written word, which relied less on nature's gifts and drew from self-sacrifice and blood, this was the grandfather of much modern dark magic and the modern use of runes to protect and defend the Magical people. This knowledge allowed Harry to gain greater understanding of the prison he was held in. He could feel the magic, originally used to contain the Dementors and the newer magics used to hold human prisoners.

It was the origins of the Dementors that saddened the young mage. They were among the first prisoners held captive on the island, cursed in many ways to suffer. When the island was abandoned there were no magic users to control the wild power that was used to maintain the prison. The runes surrounding the prison eventually worked together preventing the creatures from dying and forcing them to feed off the pain and suffering of others, whether they wanted to or not. In hindsight, their wails made much more sense now. They were in just as much pain as those they tormented. Many having lost what little of their humanity they had left centuries ago.

Harry was exposed to the entire Potter magical history over the next several weeks, he allowed his family magic to show him the exploits of his ancestors, their triumphs and failures. He saw the fall of tyrants and the betrayal of heroes, though the heroes were not always the Potter. It looked like in many ways Voldemort was right, there are those with power, and those too weak to seek it. It seemed that no matter what, the Potters always sought to become stronger, either researching new magic or fighting on or near the front lines occasionally on the side of the Dark. It was this that allowed his family to thrive and grow, lasting to the present day.

Finally came the modern magics, Occlumency and Legimency seemed so much simpler when the entire knowledge of how the magic worked was downloaded into your head. Harry was grateful of that knowledge as it allowed him to organise the turmoil of all he had learnt so far.

It seemed that someone had done some research into pureblood decline aswell. They had not succeeded in discovering the origins of the decline but Harry's magic seemed to think it was important. The answer came quickly after knowledge of medicine poured itself not the recesses of his now organised mind. Family magic itself was the answer. With so many different ancestral magics fighting for control the natural magic of a wizard found difficulty in developing and could often be preventing from growing at all.

This seemed to happen most with the most inbred families, which at first seemed to be a contradiction, but it was the combination of both the inbreeding and the various family magics, either from the past or present that let the metaphorical dam burst. Inbreeding apparently wasn't liked much by magic and it only led to more violent reactions between the magics in the pureblood's bodies. This was the final correct explanation for why the number of squibs was increasing. Harry laughed himself silly after the realization; it seemed that most people's opinions were right, even though there was no previous medical explanation for the belief, inbreeding was actually responsible for the decline.

It was when Harry learnt of soul magics, mostly researched by Lily Potter that he figured out the origins of his link to Voldemort. Modern magic was little use in removing the soul fragment imbedded within him, at least it was now, now it had had time to take root. Whether Dumbledore knew how to remove the scar was irrelevant now. Especially when Harry used his new magic to destroy the soul fragment and acquire some of Riddle's early memories in the process. The ritual was tiring and left Harry in a week long sleep, but removing the presence of the Dark Lord allowed the family magics greater access to his own magic, making him even stronger than he had become these last few months. Voldemort having long grown bored with a now silent Harry never noticed the loss of their connection. Harry assumed if anything that Voldemort would guess he had been kissed by the Dementors.

The soul magics also revealed a new method for Harry to keep an eye on events round the world after he ended his connection to Voldemort. Scrying was a fascinating piece of magic and allowed him to view almost anybody anywhere. He took great pleasure in spying on most of his former friends, and a few women's locker rooms from around the world. The British ladies Gymnastics team were very good viewing.

Watching Dumbledore's first encounter with the young Riddle was infuriating. He basically showed young Tom that he was going to be taught how to be a bigger bully than he already was at the tender age of eleven, showed him that the most powerful wizards worked through intimidation and sometimes violent bursts of magic to get what they wanted. A different approach and the modern Lord Voldemort persona might never have surfaced. Indeed Albus Dumbledore had made more than one mistake with a youth he had designs on controlling.

Eventually the newly empowered mage had reached his potential. His magic was more powerful than ever, the need for a wand having been lost shortly along his journey through the history of magical knowledge. Over the next few weeks Harry amused himself by scrying the war through Britain. He watched them like ants fighting over a pile of sugar as they skirmished. The side of Darkness while not growing at any significant rate in numbers was still winning against the Light led by Dumbledore. Harry laughed at their inability to respond to alerts in time. Though it saddened him to see the Head of the DMLE Amelia Bones perish. She had been among the very few who protested Harry's imprisonment and called for a fair trial. Apparently with the rise of the war, she had to forget this comparatively minor injustice and fight to save what she could. Harry held no malice against her for her stopping her support of him, it was the right thing to do.

Harry gasped as he watched Dumbledore reveal the prophecy to Neville Longbottom, citing that the scar on his arm, the result of a well cast Sectumsempra curse was the mark of Voldemort. Harry already knew the curse was cast by Snape, clearly Dumbledore was clutching at straws now that Harry had apparently turned to the Dark Lord's side. Neville had risen through the ranks following Harry's incarceration and became a man his parents could have been proud of. Though his now distain for anything Harry left him with little respect from the Boy Who Lived, he was merely a tool used by Dumbledore who would die eventually regardless of prophecy.

After all, he might have had the power to defeat Voldemort but that didn't mean he was destined to defeat him after all, Voldemort had plenty of power of his own which could defeat Neville. Add in the fact Neville wasn't actually the one spoken of in the Prophecy and his new title as "the Chosen One" was a death sentence. He had encountered Voldemort briefly and they traded spells, Neville using Harry's wand to poor effect in the Prior Encantum produced by their wands. Clearly it didn't like having a new owner, it would have to be liberated from the slime that now wrongly claimed it. Neville probably didn't realise why the two wands he owned refused to work for him properly. Clearly his father's spirit had not deigned for his old wand to work any better for Neville, going to show that even when in a coma someone could show their disappointment in their son.

But it was three years to the day when Voldemort arrived in Diagon Alley personally to deal some destruction of his own. Harry, after liberal use of silencing charms to block out the screams and having conjured some Popcorn sat on a conjured sofa to watch the battle commence. Voldemort still had not discovered Snape's treachery and the greasy potions master had reported Voldemort's intended presence to Dumbledore.

The fight had barely started when Dumbledore and many Order members with some Aurors in tow marched to confront the Death Eater menace. The Death Eaters quickly formed up with Voldemort at the front, while the Order gathered behind Dumbledore as the two wizards sized each other up. Harry watched in anticipation of what was to come. Realising that this was going to be a great show and that the scrying mirror was not sufficient for his viewing pleasure, he promptly broke through the Azkaban wards and silently arrived at the Alley. Reconjuring his food and a chair, he sat down on the roof to watch.

During all this nothing had happened, but apparently the staring contest was over because Voldemort began to speak.

"Why Dumbeldore, welcome! It is so great to see you and your little rag-tag army of misfits here to fight to the last. Do you have any last words before you join the next great adventure?"

"Tom," Dumbledore started, drawing a snarl from the Dark Lord, "it doesn't have to be this way, we have you surrounded and anti-apparition and portkey warts are already in place. Surrender, there is no need for any more violence."

"Ah but there is always need for violence, as you always demonstrate, even in a court trial there is need for violence. After all did your little sycophants not respond quite aggressively to Potter's imprisonment? Destroying his possessions, now that's not very _noble _and _good_ now is it? Though I might have reduced myself to that level, killing his familiar, that is true barbarism that I would not reduce myself to. Even I follow the old laws of respect between our kind and you pathetic _Light_ wizards reduced yourself to lower than my own level. It is quite sad when you look at it like that isn't it?"

"The only respect you have is for yourself Voldemort," Neville thundered, pushing himself forward to stand by Dumbledore, a wand held in each hand, "you don't respect anything."

"Ah, that's where you are mistaken Longbottom, I respected Potter greatly before he died, a pity I will never get to pit myself against him again. After all, he was the only one with the _power _to defeat me, and _you_ just threw him away!" the Dark lord laughed.

"He isn't the one in the Prophecy I am!" Neville responded, "We're glad that freak is gone, because now I have the chance to kill you!"

Neville screamed as he raised both wands and started firing silent curses at the Dark Lord. Dumbledore and the others both Light and Dark stepped back behind shields as the battle progressed. Harry was mildly impressed, though Neville had not improved much since the DA he was still a fairly decent opponent. Unfortunately Voldemort was far above him in both power and knowledge, not to mention skill or the fact his one wand actually responded to him.

Neville seemed to play through power, using his strong magical reserves to try and overpower his opponent. This was hampered by the wands as he needed to push a lot of power through them to cast his spells. In a matter of minutes he was exhausted. Voldemort had settled for dodging many of the spells with a grace that could only be achieved through excessive use of rituals. The others were blocked easily.

Neville stopped casting and dropped his first wand into his pocket. "This ends here," he said angrily, "Expeliarmus!"

Harry chuckled as the spell made it's way towards Voldemort as the Dark Lord took great glee in responding with his first non-defensive spell, initiating the Prior Encantum effect. Harry watched as the two wizards fought to push the beams of light towards each other. The much more tired Neville didn't stand a chance and the beads of magic were absorbed into Neville's wand. Soon the ghostly figure of Quirrel emerged from the Holly and Phoenix wand.

"Master I am here!" he shouted in glee and taking a silent command from Voldemort began to mock and try to distract the current saviour of the light.

Neville eventually gave in and dropped the wand, his magical core depleted. Running on empty, he fell to his knees. Harry frowned as he watched his wand so carelessly treated. No one _dropped_ his wand!

A summoning charm brought the brother wand into Voldemort's grasp. He held it aloft proudly and looked towards the Light side of the Alley in glee who were quickly pulling Neville behind their shields.

"A pity that the one destined to have enough power to defeat me was lost to your side and not mine. Not for any effort on my part, but your own stupidity," he looked at the startled faces of Dumbledore and Hermione, "figured it out yet? Oh joy, this is going to be so much more interesting. Potter was completely innocent you fools, hell I didn't even have to _try_ to frame him, you did that all, _yourselves_."

The crowd was deathly silent as they processed what the Darkest power in the world told them. Dumbledore and Hermione were going over the events of Harry's trial in their minds. A smile appeared on the Dark Lord's face as Hermione gasped in realisation.

"And by right of conquest I claim this wand as my own, as my right, having defeated it's last owner!" Voldemort proclaimed joyfully. He looked to the Holly wand expecting some sort of reaction from it. Nothing happened, he waved it a few times and snarled angrily when nothing happened.

"Well then, if I cannot claim this wand as mine then no one else ever will!" Voldemort placed his Yew wand away and grasped the Holly wand between both his hands ready to snap it.

Harry watching this was not amused, almost instinctively he used his abilities to shift down in front of Voldemort. "My wand!" he said as he grabbed the wand from the surprised Lord Voldemort and knocked him on the head with the pommel at the end of the handle.

The startled dark wizard fell to the floor in shock. Whether from the sudden physical attack or the presence of his supposedly dead foe Harry knew not.

Harry looked round at the startled faces, looking for all the world like he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Erm… Hi," he said to the silent crowd, "so… How's it going, long time no see huh?"

Harry looked over the gaping expressions of his former friends and grinned cheekily. "Oh, I must look a right state mustn't I?," Harry remarked at his still filthy clothes, with a wave of his wand he removed all the dirt and grime that had accumulated over the last three years. Another wave gave him a haircut and transfigured the tatty and well worn clothes into something much more fitting his station as head of the family. His family magic rang with glee at his new attire and he smiled as his wand seemed to caress his hand with warmth as he cast the spells. It was glad to see him again.

"…So no hello for that guy you sent to Prison?"

Neville, still very tired was surprisingly the first to rally himself. "Shut up you Dark scum! You don't deserve to even speak to us!"

Harry leaned back as Neville gave his fifty pence. "God you're right, I definitely don't deserve that now do I?" he responded in mock thought. "After all, the most evil man in the world, who had the inside track to my mind and who _apparently,_ knew me better than anyone just mocked you by telling you that I was innocent and that you sent me to prison on false charges. Of_ course_ I'm dark I get it now."

The looks on their faces was priceless. Apparently it hadn't quite sank in yet for some people and Harry watched their faces move from confusion and shock to realisation and then back to shock and in one or two faces remorse. Unfortunately for those few, Harry knew exactly why they suddenly felt sorry for themselves.

"Harry?" Ginny asked tentatively from the Order side, "Is it really you?"

"Better believe it tramp, it's me alright. Better watch out for that one Neville, apparently the whole amortentia plan was moved from me to you. I wouldn't eat at the Weasleys anytime in the next ten years."

Harry watched in glee as people sent looks towards Ginny, and unsurprisingly she looked to the mother Weasley. "Bloody hell, I was only taking a wild stab in the dark, you mean you actually are as much of a slut as I thought you were. Oh wait, sorry the operative word is whore or," Harry paused for dramatic effect, "_Scarlet woman!_"

This drew some sniggers from the Dark side and rightly so. Molly weasley's marriage didn't seem as stable as before now. Arthur was looking at her with fury in his eyes, guessing correctly that Harry was telling the truth, it was plain to see in hers and Ginny's faces.

"And moving on," Harry continued, "I understand that you Hermione killed _my _Hedwig, after she refused to become your owl. Of course the familiar bond is something you should have known about, what with you being a total swot. It goes to show how little respect you deserve, killing a defenceless animal and more importantly the _familiar_ of your _first_ and _best_ friend. Regardless of my conviction I expected her to be well treated. If you did indeed kill her then clearly you did it because she didn't like your actions following the trial, something that is really quite common when I come to think about it."

The shameful expression on Hermione's face as she began to cry seemed to make Harry stop his tirade as he realised what he had said. He gently made his way forward and embraced the girl gently.

"There there, it's ok. All you did was kill my first friend. It's kind of poetic when you come to think of it," he whispered, "now you see, you destroyed the first friendship you made in the wizarding world, that little boy who risked his life to save you from a troll, remember him? Remember that little boy and how he loved you like a sister, he's gone now Hermione, partly because of you. Because _you_ made a _mistake_ Hermione, you didn't see what everyone else should have, especially you and Dumbledore, _especially you_. Your arrogance in thinking you're always right and trusting of authority truly did you a disservice didn't it?"

Hermione was openly sobbing now, trying to escape Harry's grip as he held her to him.

"But don't worry I know how to fix it, you see I recently discovered the Bible and the Bible had a great method for righting wrongs."

Harry released the girl and stepped back between the two parties, both sides no longer thinking about battle. Harry stretched out his hand and clawed at the air. A second later a ginger mass of fur appeared in his hand, held by the scruff of it's neck. "Why hello there Crookshanks, I understand you got to play with _my_ owl a bit a few years ago, well now I get to play with you."

What Harry did next was both horrifying and gruesome. The next three minutes Hermione wailed, held back by an invisible barrier as her cat was tortured before her eyes. Eventually finishing Harry turned to his erstwhile friend. "Hurts doesn't it?" He asked, "the feeling of knowing that someone you once trusted implicitly just mutilated an animal you were oh so very close to. Remember that pain Granger, you deserve every bit of it."

"Ah and moving on from the girl who doesn't understand or deserve friendship. Let's meet _Sirius_! The on again, off again Godfather. That guy who didn't even have the good grace to visit his tortured godson once in a while. Hey _Padfoot_, remember how my parents trusted you, well turns out they were wrong after all. Heck if you visited maybe once or twice after I turned seventeen you would have seen some awesome magic, and some _really_ flexible girls. But you didn't even bother did you? Knowing what I was going through, you couldn't be bothered after your official pardon to grace me, your _ward_ with your presence." Harry grew somber, his tone darker, "you didn't even consider that I had been wrongfully imprisoned, just. Like. _You_. Huh?

"Oh I think I'll skip the headmaster and his manipulations, quite frankly there are just too many. Knowing I would be abused at the Dursleys, practically _selling_ me to the Weasleys, or at least two anyway. God the list goes on. And then the shite you pulled with ickle Tom Riddle, is enough to chill the spine, it's no bloody wonder he turned out the way he did. Perhaps you should take a course on how to interact with children, because you sir are absolutely terrible at it!"

The silence was pretty fun, Harry thought. Though it would have to end sometime and end it did.

"What do you mean he _manipulated _me Potter?" Voldemort asked.

"Oh well it's quite simple really, I'm guessing he was trying to turn you into some sort of weapon like he was me, you see, I figured it out when he and Neville were going on the Pensieve tour of your life. If you'd like an example of how let's look at one thing we definitely had in common growing up, we both hated our summer accommodations and were always denied the right to stay at that castle with the five hundred odd elves that would cater to our every need. We were forced back to our respective abodes, for what reason only God and Mr Saviour over there knows," Harry gestured at Dumbledore, "now would you be surprised if the next year following my imprisonment, muggleborn or raised students were allowed to stay at Hogwarts during the Summer?"

"Yes the timing is impeccable Potter I think you might be onto something there, after all why not open Hogwarts during the Summer straight after your fourth year."

"Exactly old bean exactly. Now then! Now I've got most of my shit out of the way I guess I could tell all my dastardly plan. Well why the hell not? Can't enjoy life without a few risks. See here's my reasoning Voldemort, the Prophecy basically says only I can kill you and it implies vice versa, and obviously this means you are for all intents and purposes immortal as long as I don't want you dead. Now I don't actually want to kill you, quite frankly I'm above caring. Though, the nature of Prophecy is to fulfil itself. As long as it gets fulfilled magic and all that is happy. So as long as we both intend to kill each other we're pretty much set, seems a bit contradictory I know, but I have a really good plan. Now I propose that we do arrange for a final confrontation, in say five, maybe ten years, how does that sound to you? We will fully intend to kill each other and have a few years to fuck about aswell beforehand."

Voldemort considered this bizarre offer from his mortal enemy to the shock of all. "Of course I accept your offer, in ten years time we shall end this prophecy and get on with our lives. Of course whichever of us actually survives will that is."

"Okey dokey I'll give you the ten years, but I also want a wizards oath now that you will not order or allow Death Eater violence against the muggles, you will keep your attacks focused on wizarding kind. Of course this doesn't extend to muggleborns and their families or squibs I'm ok with that, just no actual mass muggle killings ok? After the final fight you can go back to mass murder and mayhem."

This took the Dark lord several minutes to consider, the pros and cons of ending the muggle killings were high. Eventually he nodded his head. "Very well but I will reduce our delay to only five years, the Wizards will be under my control by then so I shall need to expand my horizons shortly after."

"Great to see you're on board buddy," Harry said to a grimace from the Dark Lord as he made the oath. "Now I guess I should be off and all, said all I want to say and all that, enjoy destroying the Wizarding World Tom, I guess we all need a hobby. After all it's not like they actually do anything productive anyway."

Harry suddenly shifted to right before Dumbledore, and backhanded him with a massive slap. Then with a grin, he grabbed Dumbledore's wand out of his hand, "my wand," he said petulantly as it's tip glowed ominously. Two summoning spells followed and a ring and cloak appeared from both Dumbledore's and Neville's pockets respectively. "Tsk tsk Neville, can't buy your own things huh? I guess I better go get my Firebolt too eh Ron? It's not like you can fly for shite anyway," he finished with a barely disguised mutter.

Harry reappeared between the two groups. "Hmm, well then I can't leave you all like this now can I? Unsporting and all that Britishness. I guess I'll take down the wards, you're free to go Voldemort, fight another day and all that nonsense.

"Now _finally_," Harry said dramatically addressing the entire group once more, "you will always remember this day. As the day you _almos_…" Harry disappeared.

**As always flames appreciated. Though I honestly doubt your flames will survive the weather here in Wales. Rain in summer still going strong, maybe one day I'll learn what it's like to see the sun again.**


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